Erics Song
by Brat-Child3
Summary: Sometimes the one who laughs the most is the one who's crying the hardest.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own South Park.

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**Eric's Song.**

He was sitting in his room again, alone, clutching his tear soaked pillow to his face.

The light had been turned off, or maybe it had gotten dark and he never bothered to turn it on. He couldn't remember, but that didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

He pushed the pillow to the side and swiped away his tears as he sat up. He could easily make out the breezy night through his window. It was snowing again. The street lamps illuminated the fluffy, white dots as they glided to the earth. It was probably the first time he ever thought it beautiful. He was seeing everything differently today, and wonder if it felt like this for everyone who was about to end their life.

He laughed shortly, even as more tears streamed his cheeks. The irony was too much _not _to laugh. He had always been the happiest of his three friends. In fact, he had always thought it'd be Stan that would put a bullet in his head. Wasn't he the one who cried the most? Laughed the least?

He didn't have time to compare now. The soft, purple sky had already faded to black.

He got off his bed, went into the bathroom and used the cold tap water from the sink to rinse away any trace of tears. He had to look normal when he saw them, like nothing was wrong. It was going to be the hardest thing he had ever done in his life, saying goodbye to the three people he ever gave a crap about, which didn't include Kyle and Stan.

He wondered for a moment if they would be sorry for everything they've said and done to him over the years, after they found out what he'd done to himself. He wondered if Stan would cry the way he cried when he thought Kyle was dying. Or, the way he had when Kenny was dying. He wondered if either of them would really give a crap at all, or if they would be grateful.

He knew _he _was sorry for all the taunting and backstabbing he had done. He wanted to tell them he was sorry, and he would; in his suicide note…

…

His fist pounded loudly on the pile of crap considered the McCormick home. He could hear Kenny's mother yell for him to get off his lazy ass and see who was at the door, to which the blonde obliged only moments later. He looked surprised, even beneath the comfort of his orange parka.

Eric smiled at his best friend. Only he ever knew the true reason Kenny wore that stupid thing all the time. It was because he felt like he was hiding, and if he were hiding, then no one could hurt him. Not the harsh weather, his violent and drunken family, or any other ill-fated obstacle that may want pose a threat. The parka didn't actually help any, they both knew that. It just made him feel safer. For a moment, all Eric wanted was to take away his friends fear. All he wanted was for Kenny to have the happiness that the both of them lacked. And for only a moment, he was sorry he would be leaving the orange clad child alone in the world.

Eric hadn't even realized that he hadn't spoken a word, and Kenny was now asking him over and over if he were alright. Eric looked down at the small hand resting on his shoulder. Without a second thought, he pulled his only true friend into a hug and smiled a little wider through his tears.

He would miss Kenny most of all...

…

Wendy was more surprised to see him than Kenny was, and for good reason. They barely even spoke to one another. She looked a bit suspicious at first, though it quickly melted to concern.

Obviously he wasn't doing a very good job of hiding his feelings.

She invited him in, which he quickly declined. He didn't want to stay long, only long enough to see her one last time. She was, without a doubt, the prettiest girl in all of South Park. No… in all the world. If Eric Cartman had a soft spot for anything, it was Wendy. The tree-hugging hippie whore.

"I just needed to see you," He spoke honestly. "Before-"

He never did finish the sentence. Instead, his eyes slowly filled with liquid heartache. She didn't hesitate, not for the faintest second, to embrace him. He hiccupped a sob and clung tightly to the girl he loved more than anything, savoring the moment that would never come again. He took his time, memorizing the smell of her skin, and the way he could feel her heart beating against his.

Normally he didn't like expressing his feelings. But, normally it wasn't his last chance to let it out.

"I love you, Wendy." He whispered it through his tears, to which she pulled back to look at him, clearly bewildered. "I love you more than cheesy poofs and triple stuffed cookies."

She offered a soft smile through her obvious worry, placed warm hand to his cheek and carefully sooth away the droplets residing there. "So, why are you crying?"

His arms were still draped tightly around her hips, and he noticed then that her arm was still around his neck. He could be an asshole. He could, but he wanted her last memory of him to be pleasant. And for once in his life, he didn't _want _to be an asshole. He wanted to be sweet to her. But before he could even ask for a kiss, her lips dissolved against his…

…

Twenty minutes had probably gone by since he quietly entered his house and snuck into the kitchen. His mom was humming softly, busying herself with the task of straightening this or that, dusting here or there. She always did keep everything nice, even if she was a dirty slut. That's not something that mattered much to him anymore either. She had always been a good mother to him. _Always._

"Ooo, Sweetie-kins, I didn't know you were there." She spoke when she had finally turned around. "Are you ready for mommy to tuck you in?"

He didn't speak, only nodded, fearing if he opened his mouth he would begin crying and wouldn't be able to stop.

"Okay, go on up and change into your P.J's, and mommy will be there in a minute."

He nodded once more and disappeared into the living room and up the stairs.

Up in the bathroom, clad in bear pajamas, he stared at the full bottle of aspirin. It was the easy way out, he knew. No pain. He had had enough pain. He didn't want to kill himself, he only wanted to fall asleep and never wake up.

The bottle was completely empty in less than a minute…

…

"Here's your froggy." His mom told him, tucking the stuffed doll into the sheets with him.

Eric grabbed hold of it and squeezed tightly as she settled herself next to her son. She placed an arm around him, to which he snuggled close against her side and listened to the song she sang.

"Mum?" He asked once she had finished. "Could you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

She smiled and pet his hair. "Sure thing, Hun."

He breathed a quivery sigh and leaned further into her as the singing began again. It wasn't long he began to drift to sleep.

"Mum?" He called one last time. "I love you."

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_-BratChild3_


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